Saturday, May 11, 2019

Peeking Behind The Curtain

I'm still and always mystified by how some people can see or hear or
feel the world in such a way that is something beyond most people's
ability, and can convey that sound, that sight, that feeling --
translate it -- back at us. It's a magician's trick, really.

And I'm at least vaguely aware that just like a magician's trick, it can be learned.

I
first realized this tiered world existed when I was very young. My
first instrument was the harmonica. Without anything but instinct, I
could play melodies on the harmonica. I was immediately aware that I
couldn't play just anything. It had to fit on the harmonica's scale. But
other than that, I could play it.

But then I started to hear
people who could bend notes. That's fine. Explainable, even. But then I
noticed they could improvise a heretofore unheard melody. That's what I
couldn't grasp, and mostly still can't.

On the other hand, when I
first saw my nephew's paintings I had that same sense of someone
improvising on a harmonica. How did this happen? He must have been born
with this vision, right?

....and then I went to the website of
his school. On the one hand, my bubble was burst. It's not that the
process was de-mystified for me. But it was immediately evident that
what appeared to be intuitive or inborn was actually just a skill that
was taught.

And once the skill is taught and caught, the
"miracle" of it gets layer upon layer. Once someone has the requisite
skill, then they can take it in another direction, further from the
root. So, if your first exposure to a work happens to be a leaf, you
will most likely be unaware of limb, branch, trunk, root. It's easy to
believe the leaf was a spontaneous generation. That's what the artist
counts on.

And sometimes having the miracle de-mystified ruins it
for us. Sometimes we'd prefer the magic to the look behind the curtain.
But we're just still dying of curiosity.